The winds are kicking off the foothills and I feel like the narrator in Moby-Dick:

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

But tonight instead of flying down to the BVIs, I will be going to see Avatar in 3-D on an IMAX screen with my roommate. It will be dorktastic. And I think there may even be some ocean scenes . . .